Lilies and Petunias
by Miana
Summary: Petunia never wanted to become involved in her sister or nephew's weirdness, yet Voldemort's war had other plans for her.


**Title:** Lilies and Petunias  
**Author:** Miana  
**Characters:** Petunia Dursley, Lily Potter, James Potter, Harry Potter, Vernon & Dudley Dursley, Evans family  
**Summary:** Petunia never wanted to become involved in her sister or nephew's weirdness, yet Voldemort's war had other plans for her.  
**Notes:** This vig has actually taken me over a year to complete. I kept working on it off and on, but finally had to buckle down and finish it. Petunia has always intrigued me as to what she always wanted to say, especially in Deathly Hallows, but couldn't.

As always, it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

_Christmas Eve, 1979_

The evening air was crisp and cold as snow fell to the ground, powdering the streets with snow. A light wind was blowing through the streets of London, causing those who ventured outdoors to pull their jackets tighter around them or snuggle closer to their loved one.

The coldness, however, fit Petunia Dursley's mood perfectly. She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared out the window at the street below. A group of carol singers hurried down the street, several crying out when a gust of wind blew the music from their arms. Petunia snickered; served them right, she reckoned, for thinking that everyone wanted to hear cheerful Christmas music. She hoped they would knock on the door, just so she could slam it in their faces.

But no, precious Lily would have none of it.

Petunia sneered, a visage that had donned her face most of the evening. She and Vernon were "enjoying" Christmas Eve with her parents and relatives. Her very wealthy great-uncle George and his new young wife had flown down from Scotland to see them. Her mother's friend Wendy and her husband and children had come in from Liverpool as well. And, of course, Perfect Lily was there, and her atrocious husband was coming.

She heard an exclamation followed by rich laughter come from the kitchen. From the sounds of it, it was Wendy. Petunia's sneer deepened; no doubt, she was doting on Lily.

Petunia's hand drifted down to her already swollen abdomen. She had received her ten minutes of fame when she arrived, her mother and friends doting upon her and inquiring about the child. But then, of course, Lily had arrived. Petunia did not know what the fuss with Lily was about; it merely looked like her sister had gained weight, not that she was two months pregnant.

From the parlor, she heard Vernon's rich laughter, accompanied with her uncle George. The two businessmen had hit it off smashingly; Petunia would not have been surprised if Uncle George was giving her husband his "5 Keys to Success" speech, which he only mentioned about once every twenty-nine minutes or so.

She heard Wendy's two young children run through the room, their childish voices squealing and echoing down the corridor. Petunia's jaw tightened as 6 year old Grace's squeals became louder as her older brother Peter pursued her. Her child would never be that rude and annoying, she resolved.

She heard her mother calling them all into the dining room, announcing that dinner was ready. Gritting her teeth and preparing for horrible conversations, Petunia turned away from her window and headed into the dining room. She could still hear Grace and Peter near the front door now, Peter teasing his sister. Suddenly, both children shrieked, a deeper, richer voice joining their own. The two children then began laughing, their loud footsteps telling them that they were running toward the dining room. Wendy emerged from the kitchen holding a basket of hot rolls. "No running!" she reprimanded.

"Sorry, Mum," the two chorused. Peter found his seat whilst Gracie ran towards her mother, pulling on her skirt. "Mummy! Father Christmas was just here!"

"Was he really, darling?" Wendy asked half-heartedly, eyeing the kitchen door as it opened and Rose Evans came out, a bowl of cranberry sauce in her hands.

"Yes, I saw him! But you were wrong! He doesn't have a sleigh with reindeer at all!"

"Oh really?" Wendy picked up a large serving spoon and handed it to Rose, turning to the cabinet behind her and pulling out salt and pepper shakers to set on the table. Rose disappeared once more into the kitchen.

"Yes! Now he has a flying motorcycle!"

Petunia felt her jaw tighten once more, occupying her hands by pretending to fix the flower arrangement closest to her. She heard the door to the kitchen open once more, Lily's rich laughter reaching her ears. Petunia glared at her sister.

Lily did not notice her sister's glare. She continued smiling as she set the sweet potatoes on the table. "Did I hear you right, Gracie? You said Father Christmas now gets around on a motorcycle?"

"Yes!" Gracie said enthusiastically. "One that flies."

Lily laughed once more. "Is that so?" She beamed at the little girl, looking up as she heard her father's booming laugh.

Thomas Evans entered the dining room, his arm around the shoulders of a young man with black hair. Petunia's scowl increased. So, the "perfect" son-in-law, James Potter, had arrived.

Lily caught sight of her husband, squeezing around the table and crossing toward him. He met her with a quick kiss, Lily giving a small laugh. "You're late," she said.

"Blame Sirius and his bad gift-wrapping skills," James said, a grin on his face as he gave his wife another quick kiss.

"Did I hear James had arrived?" Rose Evans exited the kitchen, the large turkey in her hands. She beamed and smiled broadly as she set down the turkey, coming around the table to embrace and kiss her son-in-law. "Happy Christmas, James."

"Happy Christmas, Rose." James' eyes scanned the room, resting on Petunia. He gave a warm smile. "Happy Christmas, Petunia."

Petunia did not return the smile. "Happy Christmas," she replied tartly.

Thomas Evans chuckled as he eyed the turkey. "Well done, my dear! A fine dinner this looks to be! Now let's hurry, before this bird freezes like the light post outside!" A small chuckle rose from the people in the room. Thomas scooted past Petunia to get to his seat, leaning over and pecking a kiss onto his daughter's cheek. Petunia gave a small smile, but it melted away once more once her father passed.

Vernon and George soon entered the room, George nearly finished with his success speech. "Now my boy, the 5th key is the most important one. Now pay attention. The key to success is to never let anything stop you..."

"Did you hear Gracie's wonderful discovery, darling?" Petunia's ears picked up on Lily's conversation with her husband, the two standing near the corner.

"Discovery?"

"Yes. She discovered that Father Christmas no longer drives a sleigh pulled by his trusty reindeer. He now rides a flying motorcycle."

James' face reddened slightly, the man pushing his glasses up his nose. "That... that's quite an interesting discovery. I wonder where she could have come across such a finding."

"I have my suspicions," Lily countered, suppressing a laugh. "I'm sure Sirius would love to hear of this rather remarkable news."

"Come now, come now, dinner is getting cold!" Rose chastised, scooting Gracie into her seat and scanning to make sure everyone was present.

Once Uncle George's young wife, Shannon, had been located, they said grace then ate. Petunia tried not to engage in any conversations with her sister, yet she could not help overhearing them. Instead, she watched Gracie play with her cranberries while Peter flicked peas at his younger sister.

"So when are you due?" Wendy was asking.

"Sometime near the end of July," Lily answered.

"Have you decided on a name?"

Lily beamed at James for a moment, then turned back to Wendy. "Well, if it's a boy, we decided to name him Harry, which is James' middle name. If it's a girl, I thought I'd continue the family tradition of flower names. Perhaps Daisy, or Violet, or Iris."

Petunia felt a stab of anger toward her sister. Violet had been the name she had picked out if her child was a girl.

"What of you Petunia? Have you picked out names yet?" Wendy asked.

Petunia tried to quickly compose herself. "Well, Vernon really likes the name Dudley, if we have a boy." Her tongue was tempted to say her true choice for the girl, yet her mind chose not to. "I haven't picked out a girl's name," she lied.

Thomas chuckled loudly. "Hoping for a boy then?"

Petunia said nothing, but merely gave a small smile then took a sip of her cider. Her eyes watched as her sister continued to chat merrily with their guest, both Lily and Wendy laughing several times. James too chuckled a few times, but his demeanor suddenly changed. He sat upright, as if he had been shocked, his eyes traveling down to his lap. He looked back up quickly, whispering something in Lily's ear. Lily eyed her husband, a small hint of worry on her face. Petunia raised an eyebrow slightly. Something was up, that was for sure.

James plastered a fake smile onto his face, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. "If you will excuse me for a moment," he said.

"Oh, James, darling," Rose said, causing him to halt in his step. "The one down here isn't working quite right. Use the one upstairs. Second door on the left."

James flashed a smile. "Thanks, Rose." He turned and hurried out of the room. Petunia could hear him making his way upstairs a few moments later. She eyed her sister once more. Lily still had worry in her eyes, but she tried to mask it by resuming her cheerful conversation with their mother's friend. Yet Petunia could still see the slight fear hidden in the depth of her sister's green eyes.

After twenty minutes had passed, James had still not descended down the stairs. Petunia caught Lily sneaking glances back to the doorway, the worry more evident on her face. The rest of the party had noticed his absence as well; Rose began eyeing the doorway without even trying to hide it, and Thomas even leaned back in his chair at one point to look out the door.

"Right nutter for a brother-in-law you have," Vernon had whispered into her ear as he reached over her to grab the potatoes. Petunia said nothing, merely fixed her jaw and tried to ignore the fact that James was missing. She continued to eat her turkey and fixate only on her plate, giving off the air that she didn't notice anything was wrong.

After several more minutes, Lily finally patted her mouth with the corner of her napkin then rose from the table. "I do think he's gotten lost," she said gaily, a round of laughter rising from the group. She excused herself quietly then headed upstairs.

Petunia was relieved at her sister's absence. Wendy finally turned her attention away from Lily's child to Petunia's, telling her that one should pick out a name for both genders, just in case. Petunia gave a wry smile and promised that she would indeed think of a girl's name.

After fifteen more minutes, neither James nor Lily had returned. Rose kept stealing glances at the doorway, her impatience finally getting the better of her. "Petunia darling, would you go find your sister? Her supper's getting cold."

Uncle George let out a deep chuckle. "I don't know if that's wise, Rose. You never know what those two love birds could be up to." Another round of laughs and chuckles escaped the group. Petunia drew her lips tighter. That was one image she did _not_ need.

Yet Rose persisted. "Please, dear?"

Trying her best not to roll her eyes, Petunia rose from the table and headed up stairs. She withheld a grumble as she climbed the stairs, knowing very well that she would never forgive her mother if she caught the two at it like jackrabbits. As she reached the top of the stairs, she frowned as she saw that the bathroom light was not on and the door was wide open. She heard muffled voices coming from Lily's old room; her curiosity got the better of her and she quietly headed down the hall.

The door was slightly ajar and the light was off. Yet the curtains on the window were drawn back and the lamp light from outside pooled into the room. On Lily's old bed sat Lily herself; James' head was buried into her lap. Petunia raised an eyebrow; Lily and James were both crying.

James was clutching an old fashioned mirror in one of his hands. His body shook as he tried to stifle a sob. Lily was rubbing his back with one hand while the other remained stationary on his shoulder.

James shook his head and slowly raised it. He did not meet his wife's gaze but instead stared down at the mirror in his hand. "I should go. I need to be there."

"But what if Death Eaters have not yet left? What if they're hiding there, waiting?"

A dangerous look crossed James face. "Let them come. Those cowards were after me to begin with, why should I deny them their job..."

"James!" Lily interrupted, a fresh batch of tears rolling down her cheek. James stopped, then pulled his wife into his embrace. "I should have been there, Lily. They were after me, I just know they were."

"There's nothing you could have done. Had you been there..."

"Had I been there, this wouldn't have happened!" James said loudly. He inhaled sharply and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I need to go. Sirius and Peter should be there by now."

He rose from the bed and begin to walk toward the middle of the room. He paused in his step then turned back to Lily. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this war," he whispered sadly.

She slid off the bed and embraced him tightly. "I joined willingly," she said softly. "I'll inform Dumbledore. No doubt he already knows," she mused.

Her voice trailed off as James took her face in his hands gently and kissed her lovingly. "No. I'll tell Dumbledore. Go back to your family," he instructed her. "Stay here tonight if I don't..." His voice choked and he leaned down and kissed Lily's stomach. He then stood up and touched foreheads with his wife. Lily stroked his cheek and tried to bring her tears under control. "I love you," James whispered. He pulled his wand out of his pocket; a wave of anger hit Petunia at his motion. She could tolerate her sister and her husband as long as they didn't bring their abnormality to the house.

Lily kissed her husband once more then took a step back. James held onto his wand tightly then disappeared in a loud CRACK.

Petunia remained frozen in place. Something had happened. She could not tell what or who, but it sounded as if someone close to them had died. Or been killed.

Lily sniffled, hugging her arms to her chest. She began to shake as a sob escaped her throat. She fell to her knees and covered her face in her hands.

Petunia felt uncomfortable. Part of her mind told her to turn around and leave. She did not want to be involved with her sister's weird life and weird friends. She had Vernon to think about, as well as her own child. _Let Mum take care of this_, she thought. _She always favored Lily anyway._

Petunia turned to leave, the floor letting out a creak as she shifted her weight. Petunia froze as Lily let out a gasp, turning to see her sister staring at her. Fresh tears were streaming down Lily's face; her mascara was completely run and her eyes were puffy. "Tunia," she cried softly. "How... how long have you been there?"

"Long enough," Petunia said quietly. She wanted to leave. Just pick one foot up and then the other, her mind thought. Don't get involved.

Then Lily stretched out a hand to her sister. Petunia scanned her sister's face. It was no longer that of Perfect Lily whom everyone adored. It wasn't that of Miss My-Husband's-Perfect, or Miss I-Have-Magical-Powers-Therefore-I'm-Special. It was of Lily. Not Lily Potter, but Little-Lily; the young girl who had spent her childhood fighting for her sister's attention.

Petunia found herself walking forward. She entered the room and took Lily's outstretched hand. Lily pulled her sister into a tight embrace and began crying into Petunia's shoulder. Petunia remained stiff as a board. She blinked several times, then tentatively begin to rub her sister's back, afraid that warts or boils would soon appear on her skin.

Petunia knew she should have asked what was wrong. Yet the word's never escaped her lips. It was not her place to intervene; she needed to return downstairs to her husband and normal part of her family.

Yet Lily would not let go. She clung to her older sister fiercely. At length, she finally whispered, "He killed them."

Petunia froze. Speculation as to who this "he" was began to fill her mind. Had her precious James finally snapped? Or was that only her wishful thinking? "Who?" Petunia finally asked.

Lily pulled back from her embrace to look at her sister. She sniffled and tried to catch her breath. "V-v-Voldemort. He... he killed James' parents."

Petunia suspected that her sister wanted her to be shocked, horrified, or even frightened. However, her face remained neutral. "Who?"

Lily looked as if she was about to sob again. Yet she sniffled once more and wiped her eyes, a faint bravery coming into her eyes. "Voldemort. The Dark Lord. He..." She paused, scrunching her face up slightly as she gathered her thoughts. "It is difficult to put it into perspective for Muggles."

Petunia sneered at the word. She had long ago learnt its meaning from her sister.

Yet Lily did not notice Petunia's sneer. She looked intently at her sister. "He is the Hitler of our world, Tunia. He kills off those whom he sees aren't fit to be wizards."

Petunia liked the man already. Yet Lily continued.

"We fight him. James and I and our friends. We're trying so hard to stop him. To stop what he's doing. It's not just wizards he's killing, Tunia. He's killing innocent people; men, women, children."

Petunia flinched as the last words hit home. She immediately thought of her own child. The look in Lily's eyes told her that she carried the same worries. "Why Potter's parents, then?" she asked.

A sad smile came across Lily's face. "Because of us. Because they thought James and I would be there tonight..." Lily looked down at her lap. She furiously wiped her eyes, then eyed her sister once more. "Please, Tunia. Don't mention this to Mum."

As children, those words alone would have made Petunia rush immediately to her mother. Yet the look in Lily's green eyes made her nod her head. "Simply tell them that he had to leave," she suggested.

Lily nodded her head furiously. She wiped her eyes once more then sporadically hugged her sister once more. Petunia froze once more. "Thank you, Tunia," Lily whispered. She rose from the bed and left the room to head for the restroom, leaving a stunned Petunia sitting on the bed.

* * *

_May, 1981_

Petunia was quite the nosy neighbor. Number 3 on the lane had just recently been sold to a young couple, the Banks. Mr. Banks was a junior barrister, it appeared, while Mrs. Emma Banks remained at home and lived to annoy Petunia. The woman was always cheerful; always smiling, waving at Petunia when she passed, or laughing when her small daughter spoke. It made Petunia sick.

The blasted woman even came to visit when she pleased. It irked Petunia to no end that the bell would ring at random intervals during the day. With dread, she would open the door to find a smiling Emma either inviting her over for tea, presenting her with a plate of chocolate biscuits, or inviting herself in for neighborhood gossip.

Her daughter was worse. Little Margaret Banks was but three years old and quite the brat. She never let Dudley play with her toys; the first time she brought her doll over, she threw a tantrum because Dudley took her doll, drew on it, and slobbered all over its face. Petunia didn't see what was so wrong about it; the doll was ugly anyway.

Dudley was, in her opinion, growing up to be the most adorable child in existence. He had rosy pink cheeks and small, wispy blonde curls. Petunia had thought many times about taking him to a modeling agency. However, one never knew what kind of perverted beings worked in those places. A mother could never be too careful, you know.

At the moment, her angel was laying in front of the television where an old cartoon was playing. His blue eyes were wide with excitement as he watched. Petunia let out a small chuckle; he looked so adorable when he did that.

She heard a car pull into the Banks' drive. Petunia pulled the curtains back just enough to see who it was. Mrs. Banks was having an affair; she was sure of it. A car that did not belong to her husband was usually seen pulling up to the house around this time of day. Petunia never knew who the strange man in the car was, but she was bound and determined to find out.

Sure enough, a bright red Sovereign pulled up to the house. Petunia watched as a tall man in a blue suit exited the car then went into the house. The nerve of some people! To conduct an affair when your husband was at work! And while your daughter was at home!

A sharp whistle was heard from the kitchen; she had left the kettle on. Grumbling to herself, Petunia quickly rushed into the kitchen to take the kettle off. She prepared herself a cup of tea, then returned to her post on the sofa to spy on Mrs. Banks.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Petunia froze. She couldn't have missed any drastic happenings, had she? And who was pounding on the door? She set her teacup down and headed out of the living room.

Fearing that it was Emma begging for her to help hide her affair, Petunia regretfully went to the door. She opened it up a crack and peeked out, a deep frown of disdain coming to her face.

It was Lily. She looked relieved to see that Petunia was home, but immediately looked worried. "Can I come in?"

Petunia's frown held. She heard a small voice, looking down to see that Lily had a small boy with untamed black hair in her arms. He cooed and smiled widely. Petunia glared.

"Tunia? Can we come in?" Petunia blinked, then disdainfully stepped back and opened the door wider. Lily hurried into the house and cast Petunia a glance that said 'close the door quick.'

Lily showed herself into the living room, where she smiled at Dudley. The child had pried his eyes away from the television long enough to stare up at the newcomers. Lily crouched down beside him. "Hi there sweetie," she said in a syrupy voice, "I'm your Aunt Lily. This is your cousin Harry," she said, placing Harry on the floor next to Dudley.

Petunia cleared her throat; she was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. "What do you want, Lily?"

Lily eyed her older sister. Petunia could tell that Lily had understood the full meaning of the question. She was not a welcome guest. Rising to her feet, Lily let out a weary sigh, averting her eyes to the two young children. "Listen, Petunia, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to discuss," Petunia snipped, turning to retrieve her tea cup.

"I've been trying to get ahold of you for the past month. You wouldn't speak to me at the funeral…" Lily's voice caught in her throat and Petunia glowered. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of was the events of the past few months.

The police had called her about the accident one foggy night in April. They said it was a drunk driver who had lost control and hit her parents' car. Petunia had said it was impossible; her parents were never out driving that late. Even as she sat through her parent's funeral, she felt it was wrong. She had sat rigid and tight-lipped next to Vernon, holding a squirming Dudley in her arms. The minister had insisted Lily sit beside her, must to her disdain. Lily cried quietly with her head on James' shoulder. Beside him, a man with shaggy black hair and a handsome face sat somberly, holding a sleeping Harry.

Petunia remembered being angry at how many of Lily's friends had come to the funeral. She was certain that none of them knew her parents; they had all shown up uninvited and spent the entire funeral looking around suspiciously and keeping a hand in their pocket. The audacity that Lily had brought so many of her kind had infuriated Petunia. Once she buried her parents, she took off before Lily could speak, praying her sister would have the decency to leave her be.

Yet here she was in her living room, looking as scared and nervous as her friends had been at the funeral. Petunia noticed how her normally glowing face was rather pale; she had dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. Petunia sniffed lightly; so much for Lily's young beauty.

"The reason I'm here… well…" Lily was fumbling with her words.

Petunia kept her irritation in check; the sooner Lily finished, the sooner she would leave.

"It's about Mum and Dad," Lily finally blurted out.

Petunia had guessed as much. No doubt Lily had come trying to bargain for more out of the will their parents had left.

Lily's eyes watered up slightly, the young woman raising her eyes to the ceiling and breathing in, trying to keep her tears in check. Petunia did her best to not roll her eyes.

"The thing is… I really don't know how to say this, but…" Lily stopped herself. She shook her head and looked down at her hands, beginning to pace across the floor. "I don't even know if I should tell you this. It's not like it will change anything. But I think you have a right to know, Tunia. You should know."

"What are you babbling on about?" Petunia finally asked. "What 'do I have a right to know?'"

Lily stopped her pacing, hesitating before crossing the room and sitting on the sofa next to her older sister. "Petunia, Mum and Dad weren't in a car crash. They…" The tears returned, Lily's voice tightening as she said, "They were murdered."

Petunia's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What?" she hissed.

"It was Voldemort," Lily cried. "The one that killed James' parents at Christmas. He had Mum and Dad killed because… because of me." Lily buried her face into her hands, crying softly. Petunia made no gesture of comfort. She continued to glare at her sister, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

Lily continued without any prompting. "He knew – somehow, he knew – we were supposed to go visit. Spend a weekend together. Harry got sick and so we cancelled at the last second. And then we heard…"

The pieces fell into place for Petunia. She had felt that something was wrong with their deaths, and now she knew. Her parents had been killed.

Because of _her_.

An unprecedented anger rose within Petunia. She rose to her feet mechanically, her hands clenched into fists at her side. "Get out," she said evenly.

Lily lifted a tear-stained face at her sister, disbelief in her eyes. "Tunia, wait. You have to hear me out."

"OUT." Petunia jabbed a finger toward the hallway, glaring at her sister with hatred.

Lily rose to her feet. "You have to listen to me! He'll be coming after you next!"

"I said get out!"

A flame of resistance flared in Lily's eyes, yet she crossed the room and picked up Harry nonetheless. She headed toward the front door, stopping in the hallway to wheel around and face her sister. "Blame me all you want for their death, Tunia. All I want right now is to make sure nothing happens to you as well!"

"I don't want your protection! Take your freakiness and get out!" Petunia threw the door open, pushing Lily outside unceremoniously. She was able to see a look of anger and hurt before she slammed the door in her sister's face, not knowing it would be the last time she ever saw her.

* * *

_July 1997_

Petunia fastened the buttons of her coat with anxious hands, running them over the front to ensure that she had done them up correctly. Harry and Vernon had just finished another shouting match about their imminent departure, which Vernon had tried to back out of for the twentieth time today.

When they had picked up Harry at the beginning of Summer, Petunia at once had seen the difference in the young man. He was much more focused, stoic even, as if he was determined to go on a serious government mission or some other silly nonsense. She had brushed it aside as nonsensical; Harry was just being overly dramatic, as always.

The arrival of the two wizards just a few days later had changed her perceptive.

She was most unhappy to see the red-headed man return; though the room did not show it, she still had not forgiven him for demolishing her living room several summers before. The other man, Shaklebolt, was actually the first wizard she had ever met and liked. He was very serious and not crazy like all the rest.

Her focus had only shifted when Shaklebolt had gotten down to business; Harry joined him in explaining that on Harry's seventeenth birthday, the magic that had been his protection for most of his life would cease, and more importantly, that their family was in grave danger.

Petunia had shrugged it off as preposterous, yet Harry had looked her square in the eyes to tell her that they were sure that Voldemort would try to kill them. At his name, Petunia grew somber and serious. She blinked as she looked back into Harry's green eyes, seeing the ghost of her sister tell her the exact same thing only sixteen years before.

Petunia had not listened then. She had thrown her sister out that day. Less than three months later, she had found Harry on her doorstep, a letter telling her that her only sister had been killed by the very man Lily had tried to protect her from. The man who killed James' parents.

The man who killed her parents.

Petunia grabbed her handbag, making sure that its contents were all present. She remained quiet, as she had all summer. Vernon continued bellowing about various things; Harry was insane, or Harry was after the house. Harry's earlier arguments had said otherwise. His voice still rang in Petunia's ears.

_"Don't you understand? They will torture and kill you like they did my parents!"_

Harry. Petunia's emotions about her nephew had never been this confusing. She had to admit, while she had grudgingly let the boy live with them, and even tolerated his inherited weirdness (barely), she had never grown close to the boy. She had never loved him, comforted him, or given him any of the luxuries she had bestowed upon her own son. Except for taking him in, she had never even treated him like family.

Yet here he was, arranging to have them taken into hiding for their own safety.

The doorbell rang, causing Petunia to jump a little. Dudley moved from the kitchen to stand beside her, silent and still with apprehension in his eye.

Vernon, who had been pacing across the rug, finally ceased, muttering about "_his_ lot… just wants the house…" under his breath.

Harry led the two newcomers into the living room, introducing them quickly. The smaller man smiled broadly as he entered the living room. "Good day to you, Harry Potter's relatives!"

Petunia frowned at the man. He was exactly the sort of odd that Petunia had expected.

She turned her attention to Harry, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't quite sure when Harry had grown up, but he was certainly not a child anymore. Beyond his appearance, there was a quiet focus and worry in his face that did not belong on someone of his age.

The worry on Harry's face increased when the small wizard told him that there had been a change in arrangements.

"What d'you mean? I thought Mad-Eye was going to come and take me by Side Along-Apparation?"

"Can't do it," the female witch at the back of the room spoke up sharply. "Mad-Eye will explain."

Petunia frowned. She had no idea exactly what was going on, but she could tell that Harry did not like it.

A shrill "Hurry up!" broke the silence of the room. Petunia jumped slightly. No one had spoken at all. It took her a moment before she realized it had issued from the wizard's watch.

The moment for goodbye was drawing near. This Diggle fellow was attempting to move things along, ensuring that they were all packed and ready.

Vernon's throat-clearing was loud and overdone.

"Well, this is good-bye then, boy."

Petunia turned her gaze away from Harry. Guilt had begun to build up inside of her. She couldn't look at Harry; she couldn't look into his eyes and see her sister. Harry had made it a priority this summer to ensure their protection. Why? What had they ever done for him?

She fumbled with the clasp on her purse. "Ready, Diddy?" She began heading for the doorway, not noticing after a moment that Dudley hadn't moved.

"I don't understand."

Petunia looked up at her son in bewilderment. She needed to leave the room. She needed to get as far away from Harry as she could, hoping her guilt was left behind with him.

"What don't you understand, popkin?"

Dudley pointed at his cousin. "Why isn't he coming with us?"

The same question had been burning in Petunia's mind all summer. With all of the planning, Harry had never mentioned whether or not he was going with them. It was always "_you'll_ be taken to safety, they'll protect _you_," never _us_. She thought perhaps Harry meant that he would be going along as well, but just that he did not need to be protected because of his magic.

However, the past few days had made it perfectly clear that Harry was not coming with them. With all of their luggage packed and loaded into the car, not a single bag belonged to Harry. He was going elsewhere.

Vernon and Harry exchanged a few words, confirming that Harry didn't want to go with them. Petunia hoped that would have settled it, she and Vernon heading for the door once more. However, when she noticed Dudley was not following them, she took a few more hopeful steps toward the door before halting and staring at her son.

"But where's he going to go?"

Petunia exchanged a look with her husband. It was something both had wondered but never really asked. Vernon had the idea that Harry would just be hiding out with his lot, but Petunia knew better. The boy had too much of his parents in him. He had made it clear that Voldemort was after _him_. Petunia had a hunch that unlike them, Harry would not be going into hiding.

The witch looked at them with wide eyes. "But… surely you know where your nephew is going?"

Vernon looked slightly miffed. He quickly told her his theory, turning and marching toward the front door.

The witch looked enraged. "Off with some of _our_ lot?"

Harry quickly tried to calm her down.

"It's fine. It doesn't matter, honestly."

"Doesn't matter? Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in?"

Danger. Petunia's mouth grew slightly dry. Her suspicions had been confirmed.

Harry actually looked a little embarrassed when he answered that they thought he was a waste of space.

"I don't think you're a waste of space."

Petunia's eyes snapped to her son. Dudley stood still in the living room, his face turning beet red with embarrassment. Shock filled her. Dudley had always been happiest when he was tormenting Harry. She knew her own dislike of the boy was fueled by her son's own dislike. Or, perhaps, it had always been the other way around…

"Well… er… thanks, Dudley."

"You saved my life."

"Not really," Harry murmured, explaining about how the dementors wanted his soul and not his life.

The gratitude on Dudley's face pushed Petunia over. She burst into tears and ran back into the living room, hugging her son tightly. Her son, her beautiful son, was saying exactly what she wished she could. She was so proud of him in that moment; he truly would become a great, gracious man.

The witch seemed outraged once more at her outburst, but Petunia ignored her. Vernon poked his head back in the room, bellowing as he asked if they were going or not. Petunia barely heard Diggle say farewell to Harry, mentioning something about how the fate of the Wizarding world rested on his shoulders.

Dudley gently pushed his mother away to go shake Harry's hand. Petunia began crying once more. Her son truly was gracious and kind. She knew then that she had raised her boy right. She dug into her purse for her handkerchief, dabbling at her eyes and nose.

It took a moment for Petunia to realize she was alone with Harry. Dudley and Vernon, along with their two escorts, had already headed out to the car. She quickly composed herself, shoving the wet fabric into her pocket. She averted her eyes and quickly said "Well – good-bye," then marched toward the door.

"Good-bye."

Harry's voice caused her to pause in her step. She turned and looked at him, a small voice telling her that this could be the last time she saw her nephew. So many thing she wished to say boiled in her throat; things about her sister that she had never told Harry. How his green eyes were hers; his laugh was hers. This boy was all that she had left of Lily.

Regret washed over Petunia as she looked into his eyes. She should have treated him better. Should have cared for her sister's son with more devotion than she had. They both had had their parents taken away from them unfairly, yet Petunia had had her husband and infant son to comfort her. Harry had no one. He had grown up alone, raised by a family that had shown him no love.

And he was about to die to protect them.

Petunia's mouth opened slightly several times. How could she tell him any of this? What words would do it justice? Why was she still standing there?

With a jerk of her head, Petunia turned away and marched out the front door to join her husband and son.


End file.
